


Actual Love Guru Bucky Barnes

by thebearking



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Non-Consensual Touching, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: You've had a crush on Steve for quite some time but have a feeling he doesn't want you back. Bucky's tired of it.





	Actual Love Guru Bucky Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> woohoo another fic! i love writing platonic bucky so much. female reader in this one.

“No.”

You frowned. “Why the hell not?”

“Because you’re fragile, and I don’t wanna break you,” Bucky explained around a mouthful of his sandwich. “You’re too important to break, sweetheart.”

“Buck, I’m tired of having to be protected all the time!” you cried. “Just give me a couple lessons, nothing major. Just some punches and whatever.”

Bucky smirked at you. “‘Punches and whatever’? No offense, doll, but if you were aimin’ to get me to teach you, should’ve done some research on what you wanted beforehand.” He took another bite, and you were so annoyed that you considered yanking the Italian sub right out of his huge ass hands.

So you did.

“Hey, hey, hey! Give that back!” he protested, holding his metal hand out.

You shook your head, holding the sandwich out of reach. You knew he could snatch it from you without much effort, but he hadn’t moved yet, and so you figured you at least had the upper hand—for now. “Not until you tell me why you’re not going to teach me,” you answered smoothly, arching an eyebrow at him challengingly.

Bucky blinked at you incredulously. Then he sighed, placing his hands on his knees and turning to face you on his barstool. “I take back what I said about the whole fragile thing,” he told you, and you could see the smirk coming back. “And I’ll tell you what my reason for not training you is if you tell me your reason for wanting to train all of a sudden.”

You frowned and took a bite of his sandwich, keeping eye contact with him as you chewed and swallowed. He watched you with a scowl of betrayal on his face. “I wanna do more than just be on the sidelines,” you answered, handing him his sandwich.

Bucky took it hastily but gently, like he was reunited with his firstborn. “Why don’t you ask Steve?” he grumbled, eyeing you pointedly.

You bristled, flinching a little at the mention of his name. Bucky had been one of the first to notice your soft spot for the captain; when he’d first been brought to HQ, Bucky had seen the way you practically melted under Steve’s gaze, how you eagerly answered all of his tech questions, how excited you got whenever you touched up his shield. You’d fallen for him over the years and Bucky never let you forget it. In fact, he supported your endeavors, even if he teased you every time you were within Steve’s presence. “He’s got enough on his plate,” you told Bucky through gritted teeth. “I don’t wanna bother him.”

Bucky grinned around his sandwich. “Eh, I don’t think he’d mind you botherin’ him one bit,” he teased.

You pivoted on one foot and headed down the hall to the elevator. You didn’t have time for this.

“Oh, c’mon, doll! I mean it!” he called after you, but the elevator doors opened and you hurried inside before he could see you tearing up.

* * *

You avoided Bucky for most of the following morning, unwilling to face any of his jokes and pestering. This was a tender subject for you, and having him belittle your feelings as some simple schoolgirl crush hurt you. Furthermore, you knew he’d say anything if it meant you would act on your feelings and embarrass yourself. You knew you would happen upon him—or he upon you—eventually. Around noon, you were in the kitchen—multitasking as usual with your tablet in one hand and an apple in the other—when both super soldiers entered the room, both glistening with sweat from a workout. You merely glanced at Steve before you continued to read, but in just that one glance you had seen how big and ropy his arms were and how the Dri-Fit shirt looked snug around his chest and his shoulders and _everywhere_ —

“Hey, doll,” Bucky greeted you, patting you on the back as he passed.

You grunted in reply, and when he tapped your shoulder, you spun around to fire a hostile warning—but it was Steve, staring down at you with inquisitive blue eyes. You softened your expression before you could scare him off. “Oh, hey, Steve,” you said quietly.

“What’cha looking at?” he asked, taking a seat in the barstool next to you.

You forced a small, sheepish smile. “I _should_ be drafting some sketches for Tony’s newest suit, but I’ve been, uh…” You avoided his gaze, feeling your cheeks flush. “…Online-shopping.”

“Oh? Let me see,” Bucky interjected, moving to the counter where you sat. “Is it for Friday night?”

You opened your mouth to reply but he took the tablet from you, zooming in on the image currently on your screen. You shut your eyes and counted to five, willing yourself not to lose your temper.

“Wow,” Bucky said with a low whistle. “I think you’re sure to turn some heads with this one, doll.”

You could ram your head into the marble countertop and regret nothing. “Thanks, Buck,” you muttered. “Now give it ba—”

“Look at this, Stevie,” Bucky continued, moving out of your reach. Oh, you could throttle him. You were going to, since you knew it wouldn’t kill him. He was standing on the other side of the counter, next to Steve, and showing him the tablet.

Steve’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “Yeah, it’s…It’s something, Y/N,” he said absently, flashing you a quick smile. Was he blushing? “You’re going to look stunning.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, wondering if his ears were really turning pink or if it was a trick of the light. Bucky finally handed you the tablet and you fiddled with it in your lap a bit. “Who’re you taking on Friday, Steve?” you asked, trying to be nonchalant.

“Oh, Sharon asked me this morning,” he replied smoothly, and your shoulders sunk with defeat. “Said she needed someone to fight off all the suitors, ha-ha. And you?”

Your eyes went wide. Shit. You should’ve anticipated this follow-up question. “I, uh—”

“I’m the lucky guy, Stevie,” Bucky piped up, slipping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you fondly. “Figured I’d come to at least one of those things.”

Steve’s expression of shock must have matched yours. “Oh, that’s great! Glad to see you getting out there, Buck. I’m proud.” His eyes settled on you. God, you felt like you were drowning in those baby blues. “Make sure he doesn’t go runnin’ off after some dame, okay? He’s _your_ date. Keep a tight leash.” He winked at you and rose from his seat, grabbing a water bottle from the counter as he walked away. “I’ll see you tomorrow for a weapons tuneup!”

“O-Okay,” you replied, slightly breathless. You didn’t know you were staring into space until Bucky’s voice drew you out of your thoughts.

“As a thank-you for that save,” he began, moving to sit in the barstool Steve had been sitting in, “I expect you to confess to that punk Friday night. Don’t let me down.”

You groaned and finally brought your head down to the marble countertop, though much more gently than you wanted to. It was three days away, and you already knew it was going to be a rough gala.

* * *

“I hate you so much.”

“I love you, too. Now, c’mon, let’s get out there before they start asking questions.” With that, Bucky held his hand out for you to take. Grudgingly, you took it and allowed him to lead you into the ballroom.

You were already starting to feel uncomfortable in your mile-high heels, but when you saw people’s gazes linger on you, you started feeling more confident, and you let your hips sway a little more than usual. You had to admit that when you’d seen [yourself](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/95/f0/2d/95f02db592c770c70661f053d61b1371.jpg) in the mirror, your form swathed in silver chiffon, you had trouble remembering when you had last looked—and felt!—so beautiful. The sweetheart neckline, formfitting ruched waist, matching gloves, and diaphanous shawl across your shoulders flattered everything about your figure and skin tone. According to Bucky, you were glowing “like some kinda moon creature.” The highest praise from him, you guessed. He had made the photographer take photo after photo of you two together just before entering.

Tony was nowhere to be found; you figured he was entertaining some politician or whatever. Pepper was with him, so you wouldn’t have to watch him closely like you usually did at these events (the man was a lightweight and he knew it). You made some small talk with a few guests before Bucky pulled you out to the dance floor, swaying with you quietly. He was talking about some recent mission with Sam, but your mind was elsewhere.

It didn’t take long for you to find Steve in the crowd, clad in a sharp black suit that made your knees weak. And next to him was the lovely Sharon Carter in a flowing black gown. She looked beautiful, and just like that your confidence dwindled. You knew Steve was as chaste as they came, but you wondered bitterly if he was going to ogle her plunging neckline, or the slit up the leg, or the—

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Bucky told you, bringing you back to reality. You said nothing, focusing your eyes somewhere above his shoulder. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. Bucky looked handsome as usual; he had forgone shaving, leaving just the right amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw, and his hair was parted down the middle, framing his face in loose waves. He was already drawing plenty of attention in his trim black tux. Still, your thoughts were filled with images of Steve, and Sharon, rubbing their chemistry in your face, the picture-perfect couple.

Bucky sighed. “Doll, the only reason I try to work you up so much in front of him is so you let loose,” he told you. “You don’t need to be so uptight around him. He’s not judgmental like you think. Just be real. Talk to him.”

You bit your bottom lip. The very idea of sitting down with Steve and telling him how you felt was making you nauseous. “I’m gonna sit down, okay?” You withdrew your hand from Bucky’s grasp, and he let you go, but you saw the guilt shadowing his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Buck,” you told him before you turned and walked over to the bar, debating on a drink to ease your sorrows.

You’d barely taken a seat when a man sidled up to the bar next to you. He had ordered a martini and was sipping from it nonchalantly when he finally spoke. “Impossible,” he muttered.

You turned to him. He was tall and cut quite the figure in a midnight blue suit that flattered his suntanned complexion. He had loose curls and a winning smile. You vaguely recognized him as a SHIELD agent; you remembered repairing his handgun as clear as day, but you couldn’t quite place his name. “Sorry?” you asked, brows furrowed with confusion.

He grinned. “It’s impossible that a beautiful woman like yourself would be alone here tonight looking like that, so tell me. Who’s the lucky guy?” He gave you a not-so-subtle onceover.

You glanced to the dance floor, where Bucky was entertaining a woman with gleaming dark skin and plaits dangling down to her hips. His hand hung just a tad too low on her waist, but she didn’t seem to mind; they were practically glued to each other. “The Winter Soldier himself,” you replied. The man arched an eyebrow. “Just a friend,” you confirmed.

The man nodded and held out a hand to you. “Ethan,” he told you.

You grinned and introduced yourself, shaking his hand firmly. At the last second, he loosened his grip to hold your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles politely. You giggled at that.

“Gotta say, Y/N, you look amazing,” Ethan repeated. “Never thought the lab tech would be hiding such a treasure under that white coat.”

Your lip twitched as you fought the urge to frown. “I can’t exactly fix anything in a dress like this,” you said evenly.

“Of course, of course.” Ethan set his martini down and stepped closer to you. “Maybe I could stop by your lab some time, get some tuneups to my weapons.” His hand slid to your hip. “Anything to see you again.”

“Gee, thanks,” you deadpanned, leaning out of his grip, watching him warily.

“Think we could find somewhere more private?” he persisted, making you groan internally. “I’d love to dance but something about you has me wanting you all to myself.”

“Listen, Ethan, I was just planning on keeping to myself tonight. So no, thanks.”

“Oh, c’mon, you can’t knock it ’til you try it! Give me a chance.”

“I—”

“One dance, that’s all I—”

“She said no.”

You nearly fell out of your seat as you whipped around, your eyes wide as they took in Steve looming behind you, broad and imposing. “Steve,” you murmured senselessly.

Ethan smirked but removed his hand from your waist. “Nice to see you’ve never lost that savior complex, Cap. The lady can speak for herself.”

“She has spoken. And she’s said no,” Steve said, his tone cool. He stepped forward. “Let her be. You’ve had enough for the night.”

Ethan scoffed, casting you a cold look. His expression turned sultry. “If you change your mind, I’ll be on the balcony,” he crooned, and he strode off, martini in hand.

Steve sighed and took Ethan’s seat, shaking his head as if he were disappointed with himself. He was staring at the bar counter.

You couldn’t help but gape at him, your cheeks warm. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Steve grinned but still didn’t look at you. “Sorry if I was too…aggressive.”

You placed a hand on his arm, and he finally turned to you. Those blue eyes trapped you, and you regretted the touch instantly. “I mean it,” you insisted. “You’re so sweet. And protective. It’s what I love about you.” What? Why were you still talking?

Steve blinked, then smiled that nervous smile he got whenever he was receiving flirtatious attention. “That’s nice of you to say,” he said. Was he blushing?

Against your better judgment, you went on, turning to face him fully on your barstool. “Steve, you’re one of the best people I know. If not the best. And I—” You paused, wondering if you were really going to do this. “I wanted to let you know that—”

“Do you want to—” He stopped, laughing. “I’m sorry, I interrupted you.”

“No!” you said a little too loudly, leaning forward and watching him earnestly. “What were going to say?”

Now you _knew_ Steve was blushing. It was endearing, how flustered you’d made him with just your words, or your eyes, or maybe your dress (you were leaning over quite a bit). You saw his Adam’s apple quiver as he swallowed. “I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me, maybe Thursday night, to a movie? And dinner?” he offered.

You froze, your mouth falling open with realization.

He was asking you out. Steve was asking you out. Had Bucky put him up to this? Was this a joke? Was he being held against his will—

“If you want, we could walk in the park afterward,” Steve continued. “It’s, uh, lovely at night. Especially sunset. We could catch an early movie and—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

You were grinning from ear to ear. You were sure your eyes were crazed with delight but you couldn’t care less. “Yes, Steve, I would love to go with you,” you confirmed.

Now Steve was smiling, too, and you thought you might pass out. It was an amazing sight. “Good. I mean, swell! Great! I can’t wait.” There was that sheepish look again. He stood, and there he was, imposing again, but so much less so, with that boyish grin on his face. “Would you like to dance?”

It took a moment for the words to register in your head. But, oh, God, he was offering you his arm and looking down at you hopefully and his cheeks were still pretty pink. “I’d love to,” you answered, carefully stepping off of the barstool and taking his proffered bicep. It was a firm as you’d imagined. He walked you over to the dance floor, and it was a miracle you never stumbled.

You would have to thank Bucky for dragging you out here, but for now, you were going to dance with Steve.

.

.

.

Bucky watched his two best friends from where he was sitting at the bar. You were both smiling like idiots, like the rest of the world didn’t exist. He was proud of Steve, but he was even prouder of you.

He shook his head with a smile on his face. “It’s about time.”


End file.
